


home in your arms

by mirajens



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirajens/pseuds/mirajens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a monotone life, he sees color and it’s mostly in Satsuki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	home in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> For aomomo month!! I took the first week prompt that is disaster.

It’s difficult not to view life in shades of gray. Most times, Daiki doesn’t even try so he starts his day blinking bleary eyes and seeing the white of his ceiling, trudging through the dull morning routine and looking in the mirror only to see the absence of color yet again.

There are days he sees color and it’s mostly in Satsuki: the pink of her hair and the gold it catches under a certain light, the flecks of red in her maroon eyes, the bright green of her dress and the pink of her lips.

This is why it makes sense that he seeks her out when things don’t add up, when he can’t make sense of his life, when everything insists on going wrong.

He shrugs on a meager coat over a tank top and basketball shorts and makes his way over to her house, the steps so familiar that it feels not unlike he’s sleepwalking to there. He knows to avoid the cheerful garden gnomes, step over her fence instead of going around it and knows that she keeps the front door unlocked. Stupid. He always tells her to lock it since she practically lives alone.

He climbs the stairs and makes his way down the hall, experienced in finding her room. He doesn’t take the trouble announcing himself, just padding over to her bed. Not even bothering to mask the sound of his movements (since he doubted that Satsuki would have any awareness at this time of day), he pulled up a corner of her duvet and let himself under it, moving into her warmth and getting small comfort from it. She always calms him. At times like this when disaster after disaster come down on him like a joke of an avalanche, he seeks out her soothing presence and it’s easy to forget that he hurts for no reason; that nothing ever goes right.

When his body is pressed against her, a sigh leaves her lips and her arms go around him. But he knows he’s not the one she wants.

It’s evident, in the way her eyes see past him sometimes, as if she’s seeing a ghost behind him, and Daiki knows she sees turquoise hair, big, round eyes, pale skin and silent demeanor. Kuroko is everything Daiki is not, and sometimes he thinks this is fine, sometimes he gets annoyed, sometimes it makes some unidentifiable pain resound behind his ribs. It feels ugly and it puts a bitter taste in his mouth. Whenever this happens, whenever things get confusing between him and the girl half his heart, he banishes these thought before they bloom into something potentially horrible. He doesn’t need more mess in his life. He can’t destroy the consistency that was her or he’d hate himself when he adds her to the list of people who have walked away from him.

It’s okay. He’s Daiki, she’s Satsuki. The lines between them have always been blurred because definition scares him and she’s hung up on a shadow.

So when she blinks bleary eyes open, he can tell she expected someone else. He stares back, his face blank but his eyes containing storms. He came here for comfort and he’ll take what he can get, even if it’s the leftover affection she has for her Tetsu-kun.

“I keep telling you to lock the fucking door,” he says as a greeting. He’s not very good at communicating what’s wrong. He jokes, he brushes it off, but she can always tell anyway. This is almost routine, how he only actively seeks her out when he’s a million kinds of upset.

Her small hands slide up his arm and cup the flat of his cheek. Her palm radiates warmth that he associates with home, so his eyes flutter shut and he feels like crying but there are not tears. There rarely is. He hears her small voice, still heavy with sleep but already worried. "What's wrong, Dai-chan?" she asks, and it’s that simple. He can already feel the pressure in his chest easing.

Desperate for more, he presses up against her. He sighs against her collarbone and he can smell the peach-scented lotion she likes to slather on at night. That and something else. "I'm okay." he intones, even when he's not. He expects her to read between the lines because she always caters to him, and she probably knows him more than he does.

Her hesitation is palpable, and while she's the best suited to deal with him when he is like this, Satsuki is forever unsure if the words out of her lips will ever be enough. She tries, but Daiki is fickle and he is delicate when these moods descend. "If you say so," the thumb of the hand on his face smoothes the line of his brow. She can almost hear him purr, and this makes her giggle. While she still wishes Daiki would talk to her about what ailed him, she knows not to push. She can only be there to remind him that she's ready to listen when he's ready to be heard.

"Did you sleep well, at least?" this is her follow up question. It's not intrusive, but it will clue her in so she can provide a better soothing.

Daiki shakes his head, his nose tickling her neck and his hair brushing under her nose. "I was anxious all night. About mom. No one wants to tell me when she's coming home."

She never knows how to answer. She knows that Daiki doesn’t want to hear optimism about auntie even though he himself folds those proverbial paper cranes so his mama would one day come home and stop needing a drip in her veins and tubes in her lungs to stay alive. “I’m sorry. Do you want to visit later?” is her quiet question. Safe, until she can better gauge his moods. Even after all these years, she still needs to make sure.

He waits a beat before speaking, his tone guarded. “Will you come with me?” is his response.

She nods, and he feels her chin move against his hair. “Of course. We can cut flowers from the garden like we used to. I think auntie would like that.”

His breathing is slow against her skin, as if he’s fallen asleep again. It won’t be the first time. Daiki tends to fall asleep when she is mid speech, as if her voice was a lullaby. “Yeah. I’ll sleep first. Wake me up, okay? For the flowers.”

Satsuki presses her lips against his temple in reassurance. “I will.”

She almost doesn’t hear his silent thanks. She doesn’t need to.


End file.
